Fair Play
by LadyVaderWrites
Summary: With the intent to avenge his friend, Harry accidentally 'love dusts' himself in the presence of Draco Malfoy  I call this my 'Willow' rip off fic, both the dusted dialogue & the dust of broken hearts are taken from said film with intent to spoof ;P


(Dedicated to Katie of Gryffindor)

Fair Play:

It started, as most bad ideas do, as the result of a whim for vengeance. Past history of such plots and ruses were left ignored due to the fact that for once their target was not, as habit dictated, the perpetually evil Draco Malfoy, but his scarily obtuse and overblown thug sidekicks.

There had been something of a reluctant truce declared between the evil prince of Slytherin and the Boy Who Lived since the Dark Lord had fallen, the majority of the Slytherin supporters fading into the background from embarrassment at Voldemort's being offed by a bad case of food poisoning. No one had been able to prove who had sent the infamous muggle-hating overlord the crate of tainted sushi, but Dumbledore, Snape and Harry Potter could be seen grinning and winking at one another when fish fingers were served at dinner.

Life at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had continued much in the same style as it had before, with the only downside of Voldemort's defeat being that spirits amongst the students were running a little higher. The students rejoiced in an endless volley of pranks and misbehaviour now that the threat of imminent doom had passed, and Dumbledore was eventually forced to threaten them with a suspension of Quidditch. Snape went so far as to suggest, with an unsurprising amount of glee at the prospect that they threaten to remove Potter as the seeker for the Gryffindor team if the rest of his house didn't behave themselves. Shockingly enough, the wily headmaster agreed, but included all other seekers in the warning to the students, bringing about an immediate, if reluctant, ceasefire.

Sadly, the faculty had not taken into account just how the mounting tension might affect the students in conjunction with the already percolating layer of mischief and high spirits. Before anyone ever even saw it coming, the most unlikely of suspects had moved on from ticking time bombs into fully active (if not fully sentient) villains.

Greg Goyle and Vincent Crabbe had never been the brightest of people, but they were still Slytherins, and as such they suddenly found themselves with a million nasty, nifty little dark thoughts and no way to exorcise them. That is until they happened upon the happy realisation that their standing in the hierarchy of the student body had so drastically altered as to completely change the habits and way of life that they had become accustomed to.

_Draco_ had told them they couldn't mess with the Gryffindors anymore, _Draco_ had told them it was a bad idea to keep starting on the Boy Who Lived now that they were struggling to fit into a world where everything they'd been taught was wrong and _Draco_ was the one who told them that homophobia was wrong. But _Draco_ had obviously forgotten that only as Draco _Malfoy_ had he held power over them and merely as Draco Malfoy, son of Azkaban inhabitant and apostate Lucius Malfoy, he had all the supremacy of a cross-eyed niffler.

So, both Crabbe and Goyle, of their own free will, decided to settle their many points of grievance against the Gryffindor 7th years by picking out one victim at a time and striking in the clumsiest ways possible.

They began by drawing pictures of Hermione with her hair exaggerated to roughly 6 times its usual size, a book in each hand, a quill clamped between her teeth (also sized at a phenomenally exaggerated rate) and a house elf hiding beneath her robes. Aside from commenting that the drawings appeared to have been made by six-year olds, when the pictures were found floating outside the Gryffindor common room, Hermione's only reaction was to quirk an eyebrow, smile coolly with her now perfectly proportioned teeth, shake her beautiful if full head of hair and primly point out that they had forgotten to draw in her Head Girl badge.

Having noted a distinct lack of outraged squeals from their subject, nor any tears shed into her morning porridge, our two thugs turned vengeful miscreants focused on a new target.

Ron had been playing as Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team since fifth year and was now renowned for his gravity defying loops and spirals between the hoops to prevent any incoming quaffles. He was a good keeper and damn proud of it. This being a fact of which nearly everyone was aware, he was surprised to find the neon, glowing letters spelling out the words to the old chant of _Weasley is our King_, the version that had once been sung by the Slytherins before the Gryffindors picked it up after Ron had earned his title as truly skilful Goal Keeper. Being obviously baffled by the words now also hovering just outside the Gryffindor portrait hole, Ron chuckled in bemusement as he watched Hermione light the words up in the style of muggle karaoke, each line alight at the moment it should be sung, the words morphing into the song he was so proud and now accustomed to hearing come match days now. "Bloody odd," was all he was heard to say afterwards on the subject.

By now the two not so cunning Slytherins had decided that obviously these small fry were unworthy of their time and moved their sights to the Boy Who Lived himself. In an attempt to exact vengeance on Potter, they arrived at breakfast one fine morning sporting glasses and a bright red ink zigzag across their foreheads.

"Ooohhh look at me," cried Crabbe, "I'm the Boy Who Lived... I killed You Know Who!"

"Ooooohhhhh," wailed Goyle piteously, "Noooo, I am, I killed him, I'm a great big hero!"

They then turned and beamed at the Gryffindor table, awaiting the response to their scathing wit and acid-like sarcasm. They noted as they waited for a response other than laughter, that Draco had smushed his entire face against the wood of the table and was muttering poisonously about them. They decided he was jealous.

However, even with the delight of knowing they had bested their former superior, they were still much annoyed by the fact that they had not pushed the apparently greatly amused Hero to the edge of despair with their mockery. It was this, more than any real spite or malice (as they would have preferred) that led them to lash out at their next victim. Not more than an hour after their appalling spectacle at breakfast they passed the group of Gryffindors as they walked the school corridors and while most merely laughed and grinned, Neville Longbottom had the nerve to tell them that they were 'really funny.'

"Yeah? Yeah?" Crabbe spat in fury and, upset by his wonderful cohort's lack of coherency, Goyle rounded on Neville, shouting the first thing that happened to come to mind.

"Yeah, well at least we don't wank over that mongrel Finnegan!"

A silence fell over the corridor as the colour drained from Neville's face and possibly the only person to not know that Neville was wildly in love with Seamus Finnegan turned to gaze at Neville in surprise.

"Nev?" squeaked Seamus, "Do… do you like… fancy me or something?"

To everyone's horror, Neville simply turned and fled.

Blinking in horror, the group reacted slowly to the situation, all quickly running after Neville, calling out to the stricken boy, giving the former _Prince_ of Slytherin time to stroll past his former sidekicks, muttering the immortal and sage advice of, "Run, you damn fools."

By the time the group had realised that they would never catch the stricken boy and spun about for vengeance, both Crabbe and Goyle were gone.

After trying everything from food to singing cacti and the chance to fly Harry's Firebolt to cheer Neville up and hopefully make him face Seamus, it was decided that only one thing could make up for Neville's distress. Swift and vicious vengeance.

They sat, they planned, they sent away for backup and even recruited the Creevey's to take pictures and somewhere in the middle of this they discovered there was a teensy weensy problem. Neville wouldn't allow it.

He shouted as loudly as a boy can when verging on terminally insecure and shy to boot, reminding them that they might cost Harry his position as Seeker, then yelling at Harry when he discovered the entire thing was Harry's idea, went bright red when he heard the plan itself and started spluttering that they would all be expelled and was only finally silenced when Seamus pressed his lips to Neville's.

"Hush you," he smiled gently into Neville's large doe-like eyes, "I might owe them for outing you to me, but I'll be damned if I let them get away wi' hurting my sweetheart that way."

As a passionate, if somewhat impromptu, make out session followed this little speech, it was decided that Seamus would stay behind to further occupy Neville so that the plan might be carried out with more efficiency.

The plan, as it had been simply dubbed, was splendid in its simplicity. Fred and George Weasley had done it again and this time on request following their being informed of poor Neville's treatment. It was one thing, they declared, to pick on a hero fully capable of defending himself, and entirely another to pick on the hero's pet puppy-dog.

They took a simple lust potion and let it simmer till it evaporated down into its purest form, combining it with just a touch of compulsion solution and the merest infusion of veritaserum. Added to this was the formula for their latest Intoxication Twizzlesticks (for those with no time for firewhisky) and before you could say lawsuit waiting to happen, the Dust of Broken Hearts was created. The idea was to douse both Crabbe and Goyle with it in their sleep and, if a large enough amount of it was used, it only required the most basic form of attraction to set them off on a lust crazed spree which would ideally leave the homophobic little freaks grinding against each other well into the night and wake them the next morning with a large dose of confusion, shame and a great feeling of hypocrisy over their homophobic beliefs.

The only problem was administering it, even one whiff of the powder could send you loopy with lust and desire and despite the fact that the entire population of the Gryffindor tower could safely swear they were not attracted to either Crabbe or Goyle, it was still something of a risk.

Harry had lacked any form of challenge since his _defeat_ of Voldemort the year before, and to be perfectly honest he had liked it that way. He tended to sleep through the night and he had gained a few pounds not needing to beat the shit out of one form or another of the Dark Lord, but suddenly his inner daredevil twitched and gamely offered him up as the lucky sod to run the risk of joining in the wild humping session envisaged for the two mini sumo wrestlers.

This then, he reminded himself, was why he now found himself creeping silently through the near abandoned boys dormitory on Christmas Eve with a large bag of what looked like fairy dust clasped in his hand.

Carefully he snuck past the sealed curtains of Draco Malfoy's bed, grateful that they were shut, not so much because he didn't want to be caught, but because of the growing sense of guilt he felt as he realised that Malfoy was forced to remain at school at Christmas now that his parents were imprisoned and his riches had been seized. He shook his head as if to shake off the feelings of remorse and crept over the Goyle's bed, glad to note that Crabbe's bed was barely a metre away. He placed a gloved hand over his mouth and nose as he carefully tipped half the bag onto Goyle's face, watching as the fine, sparkling powder was instantly absorbed by a deep, wet breath, smothering a laugh as he scampered over to tip the rest over Crabbe, being sure to leave their curtains open, the gaps facing each other so that they'd be sure to be the first thing the other saw once the powder took effect.

A low snort came from where Ron, Hermione, Dean and Ginny stood watching from the door, each smothering their own giggles with their palm and making Harry itch to laugh loudly even more than before and the problem, because sooner or later one had to arise, was mere moments behind that stifled first giggle.

He was just creeping past Malfoy's bed again when the urge to giggle turned into the desire to laugh which then in turn became in inescapable need to roll on the floor and weep with laughter and as he felt his stomach contract with a burst of laughter, both his hands shot up to prevent the bark of mirth from getting past his lips. If only he hadn't still been clutching the empty bag of broken-hearts dust.

Gasping (the wrong thing to do) as he saw the tell-tale sparkle at the end of his nose and heard Hermione's shocked cry he snatched his hands back, head already spinning as the dust seeped in on his startled breaths, nose twitching even as his pupils dilated, head jerking on his shoulders as he let out an almighty sneeze that echoed around the tomblike dormitory.

For half a second the group huddled under Harry's cloak thought he might have gotten away with it, but at the precise moment their hearts began beating afresh, curtains were thrown wide and Draco Malfoy burst out onto the floor, impressive in his suspicious and offensive stance. His cheeks were flushed with sleep, white gold hair actually falling soft and un-gelled about his cheekbones, pyjama bottoms riding low on his hips and the light from the lone candle in the room casting a golden glow over his marble-esque torso. He scowled and Hermione rested her forehead against her boyfriend's shoulder in despair as they all watched Harry's jaw drop in amazement as he surveyed the exquisite boy before him.

"Beautiful…" he breathed adoringly.

"Potter! What the fuck?" Draco growled, displeased to have his nights sleep interrupted and even more so to discover the interruption was none other than the 'Boy Who Lived to Apparently Wangle his Dormitories Password'.

Potter merely sighed rapturously.

"Potter, what the HELL could you want at this bloody hour and how the bloody hell did you even bloody well get in?"

Harry took a few slow steps forward, tentative in his approach of such magnificence. "I was drawn here," he murmured, "captivated by the beauty of your eyes..."

Draco's brows shot up and his strangled laugh of disbelief drowned out the groan of horror from the doorway, "Ok… let's try this again, you fucking freak... What are you doing here?"

Harry smiled then, wide and bright in the darkness, the opportunity to tell his love of his brilliance too good a chance to miss and he stepped closer, eyes fierce with devotion and fixed upon the horrified blond's face.

"Your power has enchanted me and I stand helpless against it..." Draco's mouth fell open and Harry leapt forward to urgently grasp his angel by his shoulders, drawing him closer, words pouring from his mouth even as he sought to capture the lips of his beloved, "Come to me, tonight let me worship you in my arms…"

Malfoy shoved at him, pushing him away hard, eyes spitting fury as he bared his teeth at his tormentor.

"Get away from me!" he shouted, heedless of the quick scurry and dive of one of his former henchmen into the other's bed, Harry sighing at the ecstasy of Draco's presence.

"I love you, Draco, you are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky, without you I dwell in darkness..."

"Get the hell out of here!" Draco's eyes were wild and furious, pointing with both his wand and jabbing index finger unknowingly at the cluster of gaping Gryffindors.

"I love you."

Draco shook his head in disbelief, desperation colouring his words as he pointed his wand straight at Harry's chest. "Stop saying that!"

Harry's mouth pursed into a small moue of confusion, his face formed into an expression so bewildered it was almost comical, the prospect of Draco's words so astounding that he was breathless at the notion. He shot forward, seizing Draco's hand with his own, pressing it palm down against the warm cloth over his heart, eyes wide with want and adoration, murmuring intimately, "How can I stop the beating of my heart? It pounds like never before…"

Malfoy gasped at the heat of Potter's skin, the desire in his eyes, shaking at the tone of his voice, not thinking to draw his hand away as he hissed in response, "Out of fear!"

"Out of love!"

Draco's lips lifted in a snarl as he pressed closer, growling and flexing his fingers over Potter's heart as if he meant to tear the beating organ from his chest.

"I can stop it, I'll kill you…" his words faded to a whisper as Potter's eyes shot down to watch Draco's fingers moving, the pad of one finger just resting past the neck of his shirt, now laying against his skin, gaze then jumping back to fix on Draco's, the green eyes thick and bright with love, head shaking in disbelief as if to negate the threat to his life, his whispered words barely reaching the silent and shocked huddle by the doorway.

"Death next to love is a trivial thing," he breathed, dipping his head to stare reverently into the Slytherin's captured gaze, "…Your touch is worth a hundred thousand deaths."

The Slytherin caught his breath and Hermione pressed her hand to her racing heart at Harry's words, mouth forming an 'o' of shock as she watched Malfoy tipping his head up as Harry lowered his, their lips meeting in a perfect example of pure romance, Harry's arms closing about Draco at the precise moment Draco's head fell back against Harry's arm, a blissful sigh emitting from them both as they shifted the angle of the kiss, making Ron shudder as a hint of tongue was seen passing between the two sets of clinging, shifting lips.

Ron made to step forward, eyes closing at the sight before him, hoping to make it to them and just make them _stop_, but before he could leave the protective folds of the cloak, something both horrific yet timely occurred.

Watching Harry kiss Draco Malfoy quickly jumped to the top of things that Ron would rather see than the sight now before him as the curtains parted (due to a wildly flailing, gargantuan limb breaking through) to reveal Greg Goyle wildly pumping himself in and out of a happily squealing Vincent Crabbe who seemed to be jerking himself off, or would have been had his member not been the size of a small gherkin, the larger boy setting both their bellies rippling with the force of his thrusts.

Draco turned his head from Harry's searching lips and tongue, paling in horror as he beheld the repulsive scene before him. "There isn't enough 'ick' in the world…" he muttered, turning back to suggest to his newfound beau that they sojourn to somewhere more private to find the heated, feverish glow in Potter's eyes fading to dull confusion.

"M… Malfoy?" he stammered, noting the blond's arms wrapped about his neck, his own two hands firmly placed, one in the Slytherin's bright locks and the other cupping his luscious backside.

Potter's jaw dropped, shock widening his eyes further still. "The... The Dust of Broken Hearts…" he murmured in dismay, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor, taking a panicked and confused Draco with him.

"Potter!" Draco cried out in alarm, trying to cradle the dark head from the cold floor of the dungeons, desperately attempting to not panic as his seeming Christmas gift fell to pieces before him. Suddenly and as if from nowhere, Granger and the Weasel burst across the room, closely followed by the Weaselette and her boyfriend, pushing Draco from where Harry's arms still held him close, sending him sprawling against the icy floor to watch in distress as they shook the warm body that had so beautifully embraced him back to consciousness.

The brunet looked up into his friend's faces for a moment before turning to blink confusedly at the trembling blond a few feet away, a frown marring his features even as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Damnit," Granger swore in the silence as everyone present tried desperately to ignore the now contented and sated heap of sweaty flesh still on display across the room, "It's only supposed to be used in food or when someone is already asleep, you can't just mess with someone's thoughts while they're awake. No wonder he passed out."

Ron gathered Harry's still sadly sparse form close and lifted him up to carry him from the room, casting a quick eye over the still trembling Slytherin.

"You weren't supposed to be part of this, Malfoy, we were just avenging Neville. No hard feelings?"

Malfoy blinked and slowly stood, eyes darting from the love pile of his former sidekicks back to Potter's face. "H... how? Why?"

Ginny shifted on her feet, some small part within her sorry for the blond boy, for the sudden cut-off of what had seemed a perfect kiss and true peace between them. "It's the umm, Dust of Broken Hearts," she explained stiltedly, not meeting his eyes, "Harry used it on Crabbe and Goyle to pay them back, but he inhaled it by accident and obviously it umm, that is it makes…"

"It makes you think you want something you don't really want and never would want," Draco muttered dully.

Hermione opened her mouth to correct him, but Ron elbowed her, interrupting with a tight smile, "Precisely, that's it exactly, Malfoy, so if you don't mind we're going to take Harry here away now and pray that he doesn't remember a thing. It'd be better for you to… y'know…"

"I know… pretend this never happened." There was a tiny hitch in Draco's voice and Ron blushed at the defeated look in Malfoy's eye and even Dean's gut twisted in sympathy as it became obvious that something had been snatched away from the blond that he hadn't been quite done cherishing yet.

The group turned, Ron leading the way back to the door with the prone Boy Hero in his arms, Dean stooping to collect the cloak they had helpfully dropped inside out for easy detection with Hermione and Ginny casting sorrowful looks back towards the Slytherin, each recalling the bliss exhibited in Harry's arms and the cry of horror as he crumbled. Hermione's eyes fell on a small dark something on the floor and suddenly she smiled.

"Malfoy?" She called softly and silver eyes flashed in quiet inquiry and then surprise as Granger kicked something to slide across the floor to rest at his bare feet. "Merry Christmas," she called and then disappeared through his door as he dipped, frowning to pick up the dark object. It was a small pouch of some kind and as Draco lifted it he noted that it was sparkling with what looked like pixie dust. Draco's eyes widened as he recalled Potter's hoarse whisper, "the... Dust of Broken Hearts..."

Malfoy smiled and carefully collected up the remaining dust and tipped it gently into a small vial, sighing with malicious contentment as he realised that he had at least an inch or so of the precious powder. He had unfinished business with the Boy Who Lived, he mused, ignoring the inexplicable pang that made itself known as he recalled being thrust from Potter's arms. He tucked the vial beneath his pillow and kept his back to the now vaguely stirring lumps, casting a silencing charm to muffle the inevitable shrieks of horror that were sure to come as he lay back and plotted as to when to use his newfound power over Potter. It might not be what he had thought, hoped it may have been, but artificial or not there was vengeance to be had and, after all, turnabout was fair play.

-

It was Christmas Day, he had received a multitude of wonderful gifts from his wonderful friends and adopted family, yet Harry Potter could not shake the niggling sense of unease that had dogged his footsteps since he had awoken, disoriented and dream-hazy that morning.

He knew from what Ron and Hermione had told him that he had accidentally inhaled some of the dust himself after liberally dosing Tweedledee and Tweedledum and that he had apparently found himself telling Draco Malfoy, of all people, that he dwelt in darkness without him. Ron then went on to explain (with a severe look towards Hermione that Harry couldn't decipher) that Harry had passed out from being dosed while awake and on an empty stomach and had then been carried back to their rooms, simple as that.

But Harry was no fool and for that matter was forced to wonder if Ron knew that after all, a boy who saw the actions of a Dark Lord murdering innocent people in his sleep was somewhat unlikely to dismiss his dreams as mere fancy.

He had the distinct recollection of sinking his fingertips through the soft, silken hair at Malfoy's nape, his palm curving to cup that elegant jaw line, tipping the blond's head back for better access to that mouth, ah gods, that mouth.

Harry paused to lean against the cool stone of the corridor wall, allowing his body to revel in the memory of those smooth lips parting beneath his, the subtle heat of Malfoy's tongue as it had fluttered lightly, almost shyly against Harry's own, the quiet whimpers of pleasure that had emitted as their lips parted and resealed themselves, each lost in the sensation of the other before something, some memory so awful that Harry's subconscious had forced it down deep into the recesses of his mind, had broken through the haze of want and need, distracting him long enough for the powder to wear off and Harry to faint away.

The brunet sighed, closing his eyes against the bright crescent moon that seemed to hover just outside the window, illuminating his midnight stroll and clarifying his thoughts a little more than he would prefer. He had heard of people kissing and even sleeping with people they had no attraction for when drunk or stoned, but for the dust to have worked like that to make him behave as he did then it could only mean…

"Merry Christmas, Potter… and surprise."

Harry's eyes shot open as a burst of silver powder exploded across his vision, leaving him spluttering, feeling the powder work its way into is lungs, spreading as it did throughout his body with the oxygen in his blood and he gasped as his vision blurred with dust as he beheld none other than Draco Malfoy before him.

Draco Malfoy had thrown the last of the Dust of Broken Hearts at him… that meant he must want a continuance of last night's events because there was no one else around and as far as Harry knew, Malfoy was not fully aware of the properties of the dust.

Harry blinked slowly, the dust shimmering on his skin as his gaze dropped to the floor before slowly sliding back up to Malfoy's triumphant silver stare, unsure of how to continue. Malfoy removed this dilemma by stepping forwards and wrapping his arms about Harry's neck, rising up on tiptoe to look directly (if somewhat shyly) into Harry's dilating gaze.

"Well, Potter, here we are again…" he whispered, mere centimetres from Harry's lips, "I know this may scar you for life afterwards, but considering last night's exit, I think you owe me a Christmas kiss..." He gasped, cheeks flushing as a light burned fiercely in Potter's eyes once more.

Harry felt his blood run hot throughout his body as three things became apparent to him:

1: Malfoy had no idea that the dust only worked if the person was already attracted to the other, hence the veritaserum, to make you admit your true feelings.  
2: Malfoy had no idea that because the dust was so powerful, it had been imbued with a tiny virus-like element that the body would over-ride and develop a resistance to, making sure that the powder would only work once on that specific person, and therefore would no longer affect Harry aside from making him that tiniest bit inebriated (Harry was such a lightweight even one Twizzlestick sent him under the table).  
3: Harry had no intention of making Malfoy aware of points 1 or 2.

With a low growl of mischief, Harry seized Malfoy with both hands clasping the smaller boy by way of his perfect rear end and lifting him to haul him flush against the Gryffindor, thrilled by the Slytherin's hoarse cry of shock and delight as he pressed their faces close and whispered throatily, "Hello, Malfoy," before proceeding to claim the blond's mouth with his own.

Draco mewled, blushing as he heard the distinctly girly noise escape his throat before he was silenced by the invasion of Potter's hot, searching tongue. His mind was already reeling, trying to figure out how much time he would have before the dust wore off. He was almost certain that the dose he had given Potter was stronger than the one he had accidentally received the night before, but could he dare distracting Potter from his task of ravishing him to suggest a location change? The answer came as a great resounding 'No' as he tightened his hold on Potter's shoulders, lifting himself up to wind his legs about Potter's trim waist, impressed as always by the hidden strength of Potter's wiry form.

Having Malfoy's legs wrapped about his middle was apparently all the persuasion Harry needed to push off from the wall he had been leaning against to spin around, reversing their positions so that his bodyweight crushed their pelvises together, trapping the slight boy between the wall and the solid heat of Harry's body. The brunet growled deeply, feeling the shudder of response running through the Slytherin as he ground himself against the rock solid proof of Malfoy's enjoyment, deliberately rotating his hips to grind their aching erections against each other. He was desperately trying to figure out just what it was Malfoy truly wanted of him and it seemed unlikely that the Slytherin would go to all this trouble for nothing more than a highly heated make-out session. Harry had an inkling of something Draco might expect of him and although it made his blood sing with unexpected need and the intense desire to actually do _that_, he was also perturbed by the thought that Draco might use it to humiliate him with at a later date.

"P... Potter..." Draco gasped, arching his body wantonly to achieve even more friction than their frenzied grinding had brought them, gasping as Harry laved a thick path of heat across his collar bone with his tongue, lingering in the dips and valleys of the elegant slope of his throat.

"Harry…" he ground out harshly, nipping at the soft skin behind Draco's earlobe, "Call me Harry, I want to hear you say my name, Draco, I need to hear it…"

Draco cried out at the non-too gentle pressure of Harry's teeth against his skin, whimpering and bucking his hips and somehow adoring the utter shamelessness of being pleasured nearly by force. "H... Harry..." he moaned and the brunet groaned at the note of sheer unadulterated lust in the blond's voice, "Harry, I want… I want you to, please, say things like... like before... Ahhh Merlin... talk to me like last night, Harry… please… tell me…"

Harry had been listening with growing trepidation, occupying himself with the undoing and disposing of Draco's robes, currently unbuttoning Draco's dress shirt and kissing the white skin that was slowly revealing itself to him as his fingers led the path down his chest. Ron had told him he'd declared that he had wanted to worship Draco in his arms, but flowery had never really been Harry's style and it was with some slight unease and foreboding that he decided that honesty was most likely the best policy.

He pushed the material from Draco's shoulders, watching abstractedly as it pooled about them in white silken folds against the stone floor, watching the sudden flare of distress as he eased Draco back onto his feet.

"You," Harry whispered huskily, pressing a kiss to Draco's forehead, "complete me." He moved to press a tender kiss to each temple and one to the tip of Draco's nose with reverence. "You are my anchor in a world that I…" he kissed his lips, "have been lost in since I was 11 years old."

Taking advantage of Draco's mesmerised expression, he slowly turned him to face the wall, dipping his mouth now to trail the softest of kisses along the breadth of his shoulders, murmuring quietly as he then followed every fragile notch of his spine with his mouth, steadying the trembling boy with shaking hands pressed at his hips.

"I always thought I hated you, but from the first day I saw you, I knew you were special. No one could be so completely, intensely captivating as you have been to me, even when we have fought, when I have hurt you, or you me, I have always known that somehow, someway this world would be wrong, that I would be displaced and lacking were you not here to keep me grounded."

Draco pressed his forehead against the stone and concentrated on the sound of Harry's voice, the sensation of his mouth upon his skin, anything to keep him from blubbering like a baby at the emotion in the brunet's voice.

"You are my parallel, you've walked the same path that I have, but from the other side of my eyes, you have been the thorn in my side in so many ways and even when I wanted to hurt and harm you as a child, I wanted to curl up beside you and ask if you hurt sometimes, too, and then, when they arrested your father, I didn't _care_ if you were hurting because I was so glad, so fucking ecstatically happy that he wouldn't be near you anymore that I wanted to grab you and shake you, tell you how I had never wanted to be your friend, not even when you offered it to me, not before then and certainly not since, but that all I had ever wanted was _this_..."

He turned Draco's shaking body in his hands, now kneeling before him, having licked and kissed his way down his spine, words a blurred path across the marble flesh, his mouth now pressing soft fevered kisses to the expanse of smooth flesh beneath his navel as he met the tear-filled shining silver eyes and held them, lips dragging on his skin as he continued huskily, urgently, "I wanted to own you… to be owned by you, to be part of the shining, beautiful boy who turned into this shining, beautiful, scarily intelligent, completely dedicated, frequently scathing and passionate man I see now. All I ever wanted, Draco…" he whispered, pressing kisses up towards his abdomen, rising to his knees to place his mouth against the left side of the blond's chest, his hand, unnoticed, moving to undo the Slytherins still straining fly, "All I will _ever_ want... is you."

And without breaking eye contact for so much as a single second, he lowered his body to press a heated kiss to the weeping head of Draco's erect cock before parting his lips to lap at the liquid flowing there.

"Oh… gods… Harry…" Draco muttered succinctly, steadying himself against the wall as Potter licked and suckled at his length, never breaking eye contact with the blond and moaning with delight as he dipped his head to engulf the entire rigid shaft with the wet heat that was Harry's mouth and throat. He watched the dark head slowly swallowing and releasing his cock with an odd sort of detachment completely at odds with the waves of pleasure that rolled through him at Harry's actions. He had sounded as though he had meant each and every word he said, Draco thought, eyes blurring with tears once more, gasping as the pleasure built in him, body racked by pleasure and heart cracking with the knowledge that everything that Harry had just said could become unsaid at any given moment, that this was all he would have of Harry Potter and as completely fantastic as _this_ was, Draco wanted more from him than a blowjob.

He slid long, elegantly pale fingers into Potter's thick crop of hair, pulling him, and noting the brunet's reluctance, off of his cock and back up onto his feet.

"Thank you," he smiled into the brunet's confused eyes, blushing at the now slick and crimson lips, swelling from their usage as he lifted himself to his tiptoes to press a kiss against Harry's petal soft mouth and blushing as he tasted himself, "That was wonderful, Harry, but… but I… I want more."

"M...more?" Harry husked, quivering with anxiety, sure that his words had changed Draco's mind about his desire for him.

"More," Draco affirmed, pushing his trousers and underwear down his thighs with unsteady hands before reaching out to gently cup Harry's own erect cock through the material of his trousers, fingers tugging distractedly at the zipper. "I... I want you inside me, Harry… I…" he gulped and met Harry's eyes with desperation, "I want you to fuck me."

Harry closed his eyes, blood rushing through him to pound that much harder at his groin, shame coursing through him. Draco might think he was getting Harry under influence, but he couldn't, just couldn't, take advantage of Draco that way.

"Draco," he murmured, cupping the blond's face and lifting it to place a tender kiss upon the swollen lips, "I… I need… there's something you need to know, that I should tell you."

Draco paled. So, he mused in misery, Harry had broken free of the powder's influence already. He trembled and straightened his spine. It wasn't going to be so easy, he decided, to shake Draco off. He wanted Harry and a Malfoy _always_ got what they wanted... especially at Christmas.

He pressed a hand to Harry's mouth, silencing the words with shaking fingers. "I don't care, Harry, whatever it is I don't care, I just want you, only you... and I want you _now_."

And before Harry could further object Draco had stolen his power of speech with his lips, sucking needfully at the tip of Harry's tongue and whimpering gently, grinding his slick erection against Harry's.

Harry decided he would hate himself later, he might even let Malfoy hex him if he wanted, although he still couldn't quite decide why Malfoy would want him under the influence of a powder that nearly guaranteed his fucking him unless… Harry shook his head. He refused to get his hopes up, he would do as Draco wished and create a memory he could relive for all time, in a cell if necessary.

He revelled in Draco's loud mewl of pleasure as he cupped his now naked ass in his hands, lifting him to open his legs about him once more, ankles locked and trapping Draco, thighs splayed wide and intimate at Harry's waist. He would have blushed had Harry not trailed eyes hot with desire and longing across his naked body, making Draco weak with want as he imagined the picture they must make, desire the only heat they had, Draco naked and keening quietly to be fucked by a near fully dressed Harry, his prick standing thick and dripping from his trousers, throbbing towards Draco's body.

Bracing Draco's back against the wall, Harry fumbled in his pocket for his wand, casting a warming spell about them, shrugging out of his shirt and smiling crookedly at the blond.

"Want to feel your hands on me," he whispered and then groaned as Draco swiftly raked his hands down his back, short blunt nails leaving tracks of heat and gentle pain behind them and Harry leaned in to bite Draco's lips in rebuttal, the two swiftly lost to the sensation of kissing passionately and long with the wet heads of their cocks knocking together, driving the breath from them in turn.

Draco bucked harder into Harry's grasp, trying to get closer to the Gryffindor's sculpted yet slim chest and gasped as he inadvertently bucked his hips high and was close enough to have Harry's weeping cock head pushing briefly at his entrance. The sensation was lost as he jerked in response, crying out at the loss even as Harry pulled his lips from his glancing down to where his body had unerringly tried to enter Draco's, lifting a hand from Draco's ass to trail questing fingertips over the small pink opening.

"Lube," he murmured softly, meeting Draco's eyes with a blush, "We need lube."

"Right hand... ahhh… pocket of my trousers." Draco gasped, flushing at the amused light in Harry's eyes. "Alright, so I came prepared," he quipped as Harry stooped, taking Draco down with him to kneel and search the Slytherin's discarded clothing. He found the small vial of clear gel almost immediately, grasping it between eager fingers and smiling into the blond's flushed face before glancing at their positions.

"Y'know," he murmured, "it might be a lot easier this way."

Draco frowned. "What way?" he asked and then he gasped in pleasure as Harry sank fully to his knees, Draco now settling on his lap with Harry's cock jutting up against the curve of his buttocks and Harry chuckled softly at the Slytherin's obvious delight.

"This way," Harry replied throatily, running his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, "This way I don't have to hold you up, I can touch you where I want… and right now I feel like touching you… here." Draco gasped as Harry again clasped his ass cheeks, spreading them as he pressed two fingers against his puckered orifice.

The blond bit his lip as Harry circled two blunt digits about the entrance, deliberately applying enough pressure to make himself felt, but not near enough to actually push past the ring of muscle. Draco whined and keened, sagging against Harry's shoulder in relief as he moved his hands away to unscrew the cap and dip his fingers into the gel, smiling as he warned the blond of its temperature before pressing one cool, slick digit inside him.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning as he felt the tight heat clamp his finger, already imagining that same vicelike warmth around his cock, twisting the finger and smiling as he felt the Slytherin bite his shoulder, whimpering and thrusting back against his hand.

"You want more?" he crooned and relished the evil glimmer in Draco's eyes as the blond sat back and rolled his hips, riding Harry's hand and moaning softly as the Gryffindor's knuckles pressed against his flesh. Harry loved that glimmer, it reminded him of who he was with, not just a vision of beauty and godlike perfection, but also the snakiest, most devious and brilliant and downright evil person he had ever known. He inserted another gel smoothed finger and allowed himself the groan of intense pleasure as Draco's eyes rolled in his head, the second finger crooking just against that node of nerve-endings that guaranteed the most exquisite pleasure imaginable and just that slight hitch in Draco's breath before his body shuddered in reaction, was the most arousing thing that Harry had ever heard.

Draco's eyes had narrowed to silver slits, fixed on Harry's enraptured face, breathing hard through his nose as he tried to contain the urge to simply throw back his head and howl with pleasure. "Harry," he mumbled through swollen lips, "I need you inside me…"

Harry flushed at the urgency of Draco's tone, biting his own lip in slight consternation. "I've never done this before…" he whispered, "I know this is supposed to make it easier for you, but you still feel so tight..." He withdrew his hand slightly before pushing back in with a third finger added, sighing with relief as Malfoy rocked forwards, head crashing onto Harry's shoulder as he shuddered and mewled with bliss.

"Oh... oh gods please now, Harry, please now…"

Shaking with nerves as well as arousal, Harry pulled his hand away, smirking gently at the sound of loss the blond made in the back of his throat before blushing as Draco's eyes burned him as they followed the path of his hand up and down as his shaft as he liberally applied the lubrication.

Their eyes met briefly, breathing hard as they surveyed the other's body before warm hands reached out and clasped warm skin and muscle, drawing the other near as Draco settled himself in Harry's lap once more, Harry sitting back upon his haunches to better aid him, he thought with slight embarrassment, in his thrusting.

"Ready?" the brunet whispered huskily, trailing his lips slowly up the side of Draco's jaw and nuzzling the wildly beating pulse he found there. Draco nodded and rocked his hips insistently over the hot head of Harry's cock, now positioned directly beneath him as he began to sink slowly onto its length, breath catching as the wet tip pressed past that first tight ring of muscle before suddenly relaxing and allowing the blond to slide gently down the remaining inches until he was sat flush against the Gryffindor, his entire throbbing shaft within him.

"Oh god…" Harry breathed as the blond squeezed his inner muscle experimentally about him, threatening his already strained control as his hips jerked upwards, thrusting instinctively and shuddering as Draco's broken cry of pleasure met his ears. Easing large palms beneath the soft skin of Draco's buttocks, Harry lifted the smaller boy upwards, gasping as he felt himself released, Draco whimpering and shivering, hands clutching at the brunet's shoulders as he was lifted until he was held with only just the tip inside him. He rocked slightly and felt the head nudge his prostate and he yelped as shocks ran though him, so pleasurable it was almost pain, leaning forward to lap gently at Potter's lips for entrance and finding his tongue roughly sucked within that warm wet mouth, sighing happily as Harry crushed his mouth with a possessive kiss.

Harry withdrew slightly, smiling into Draco's flushed face as the Slytherin pouted at the pause in kisses. "Like that do you?" he purred and Draco mewed quietly in reply before throwing his head back, a guttural scream torn from his chest and throat as Harry let him drop back onto his shaft, sliding down the burning length to meet the hard upward surge of the brunet's hips.

"Oh… oh God… fuck yes, Harry… HARDER!" Draco cried wildly, his throat raw as they now melted into a brutal rhythm, Draco bucking mindlessly in Harry's lap as the Gryffindor seized his hips and lifted him up to slam him back down repeatedly in time with his frenzied thrusting. Draco was lost, his lips stretched wide and screaming in pleasure, uncaring of who might stumble across them, of how much trouble, the many detentions they might receive if caught, but all he could care about was the soft moaning sound that came from Harry's mouth between the hard, hot, sucking kisses he was branding the skin of the blond's neck and shoulders with and the slick, sweet sound of Harry's flesh soaring up to spear into Draco's.

Harry was being slowly tortured, his body was being pushed to its limits, his cock being squeezed and milked mercilessly by the powerful inner muscles of his lover, his ears were ringing with the sounds of his pleasure, pleasure that Harry had caused and wished to never cease and yet despite all off this, Harry was being tormented, driven mad with want, with the need to kiss the wanton creature in his arms as they both thrust and bucked each other to completion. He closed his hand about Draco's leaking length between them, trying to keep a steady rhythm on it, but settling for simply slamming his hand wildly up and down the shaft, moaning as the blond cried out yet louder, now rocking his hips both forwards into Harry's hand and backwards onto his cock. Harry shifted himself against the floor, trying to lean forward to capture the Slytherin's mouth once more, but only succeeded in overbalancing them, falling backwards to land with his spine against the cold stone and a surprised Draco atop him, blinking down a him in confusion.

Before he could think about renewing their frantic pace, Harry shot a hand up to grab Draco roughly by his hair, drawing him forwards and down for a kiss, stabbing his tongue into Draco's mouth and drinking in the whimpers of pleasure the action caused. Draco wriggled slightly, making both he and Harry shudder at the action, pulling his legs back from where they had been trapped beneath Harry's now prone hips, straddling the sprawling Gryffindor as Draco decided he quite liked just how sinful he felt in this position. He leant forward, bracing his arms on Harry's chest and dipping his face until the tip of his nose touched Harry's, spreading his legs wide until only his feet were braced against the stone, using this leverage to draw his hips upwards, groaning with a feral note as he felt himself splayed open by Harry's palms upon his backside, opening him for all the world to see as he drew himself up off of Harry's thick cock. Sweat rolled down his face in droplets from the effort of holding himself up in this position and with a cry of muted pain as well as satisfaction, he let his hips drop back, impaling himself roughly on Harry's shaft and drawing a low roar from the brunet. He slowly drew himself back up once more, eyes fixed with Harry's, and was about to drop himself onto the Gryffindor again when Harry's voice stilled him.

"Stay... like that... Please?" he begged softly and Draco's thigh muscles trembled with effort, cock twitching with excitement and Harry's muttered, "I'm going to fuck you so hard now…"

Draco whimpered and suddenly found himself full of Harry's cock once more, the scream torn from his throat muffled by Harry's tongue as he kissed him fiercely, hips pistoning his cock up and into Draco with a such a brutal tempo that Draco began to shake so hard with pleasure that Harry had to lift his knees, bracing the blond's now weakened thighs as he thrust upwards ever harder, pumping vigorously into Draco's hot body.

Draco sobbed and thrashed against Harry now, body approaching its pleasure limit too quickly and too intensely for him to be able to control his responses, near weeping with the desire to come, body bucking and gyrating madly against Harry's thrusts as he babbled incoherently against Harry's mouth about wanting him deeper, so much deeper, genuinely sobbing when Harry released his ass cheeks to reach between their bodies to rapidly stroke the blond's juddering cock. With a whimper of near terror and abject ecstasy, Draco spilled, his seed spurting all over Harry's stomach and chest, head falling into the crook of Harry's neck, gasping and groaning with satisfaction as he realised that the increased clenching of his muscles around Harry's shaft had sent the Gryffindor over the edge, howling his name even as he dug his heels into the floor, back arching and lifting them both briefly into the cool air above them.

They lay, panting, for a while, each trying to figure out just what to say to the other the very second they could breathe, let alone speak, each unaware of their post coital actions, Draco nuzzling deeper against Harry's throat, licking softly at the droplets of sweat he found there, Harry smoothing his hands over Draco's trembling back and pressing soft kisses into his damp hair.

After a while, they both remembered that they were supposed to say something, anything, to the other and they stiffened, afraid of each other and themselves, terrified of whatever it was that might follow. Ever the Gryffindor, Harry went first. "Ummm, Draco?" he stuttered nervously, closing his eyes in defeat as he felt the blond boy tense against him.

"Yes?" came the terse reply and Harry sighed.

"Do you remember that there was something I should have told you... well, I really think I should now."

Draco gulped and turned his face deeper into the wet skin of Harry's shoulder, unable to bear hearing Harry say how it was a mistake, how the dust had blinded him with lust, how…

"The dust doesn't work."

Draco blinked and lifted his head to stare into sheepish green eyes. "What?" he muttered tersely. Harry swallowed and attempted a smile.

"Well, it doesn't _not_ work, it's just it only works the one time, so you see I, that is, last night… so... tonight it wouldn't…" he trailed off as a furious light began to burn in Draco's silver gaze.

"It only works once so you thought you'd _let me_... thought you'd take pity on a pathetic Slytherin with a crush on you? Thought you'd say everything you thought I'd want to hear then get your fucking end away? You fucking BASTARD!" He lifted his fists to strike down at the Gryffindor but Harry was too swift for him, seizing his fists in an iron grip and rolling them so that Draco now lay beneath Harry, both boys gasping as the motion caused Harry's still semi hard prick to sink deeper into Draco once again. They both blushed and Harry pressed Draco's hands against the ground.

"No," he said simply, "That isn't it at all… I also wanted to tell you... that is… it only works if, if you already... If you already…"

Tears swam unexpectedly in his eyes as he pressed a fervent kiss upon Draco's surprised pink lips, murmuring softly, "Is it so hard for you to believe that I could, that I do…" He trembled and smiled crookedly into the blond's wide eyes, voice quaking with emotion, "That you are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky, that without you I dwell in darkness, that your very touch is worth a hundred thousand deaths…" His voice broke as Draco's eyes glowed with unshed tears and he released his hands, sighing with relief as Draco's arms wrapped about his neck as he finished shakily, "That you are all I've ever wanted."

"Do… do you love me, Harry?" Draco whispered tremulously and Harry bit his lip.

"Yeah," he blushed, "I think I really do."

The Slytherin smiled broadly, "You know you're a lot more eloquent when you were dusted."

Harry scowled and Draco giggled, quickly sealing his lips over Harry's before pulling back to whisper frenzied "I love you's" against every inch of skin he could reach until they both lay in silence, basking in the simple glow of being loved by the other.

"Harry?" Draco's voice broke the haze of bliss that surrounded the pair, "If the dust only works if you already want the person, how did you know it'd work on Crabbe and Goyle?"

The brunet chuckled. "Well technically it didn't... we just dosed them with enough for 20 people and figured that anyone as supposedly homophobic as they are would _have_ to be repressing something and _poof_... literally I guess… I just left it so they'd each be the first thing the other saw and nature," he winced, "did the rest."

A pang of guilt shot through him, "How are they dealing with it anyway?"

Draco shrugged and shuddered delicately, "Don't really know, they haven't stopped shagging since."

Harry's stomach heaved and Draco went slightly green at the thought of what he had witnessed.

"Harry?" he murmured a moment later.

"Yeah?"

"Let's never talk of that again, hmm?"

"Done."

And they never did.

Fin.


End file.
